


Precious

by firedup



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Ageing, Bittersweet, Comfort, Friendship, Old Age, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedup/pseuds/firedup
Summary: Rokhan is getting old, Thalyssra is out of her depth....





	Precious

**Author's Note:**

> Sort-of inspired by something Serpenlupus mentioned on their blog, about wanting to see more Rokhan&Thalyssra shenanigans ingame. My mind went off on a tangent when I realized that Thalyssra can't have met many people who do not live for thousands of years...

Thalyssra was worried.

 

Had been worried for a time now, in fact. And for a reason that… well, suffice it to say, if anyone had told her, oh, ten years ago, that one day she would be concerned about the welfare of a _troll_ , she would have laughed aloud at the absurdity of it.

 

But that was then and this was now. A Now in which the Nightborne were allies of the Horde. As such, all of them had to do their part, had to mingle with the other, so very disparate races that made up its population, and unlikely friendships occurred. Even ones far more unlikely than the one between First Arcanist Thalyssra of the Nightborne, and Shadow Hunter Rokhan of the Darkspear.

 

Trolls were a mystery to Thalyssra when she first met some of them. These people that hers apparently descended from sometimes seemed hardly more than savages, even animals; bloodthirsty, wild and chaotic, and barely civilized. Yet she had seen them perform magic with the best of them, inscribe runes, navigate the pitfalls of the Nighthold like a true Nightborne, and not least, aid her people wherever needed, be it with stolen Arcwine, a healing spell, or a comforting touch.

 

Rokhan was all of this, and more. And they had worked so well together on the mission to rescue Princess Talanji from Stormwind that the Warchief had sent them out again. They returned succesful every time, which meant more missions together, which meant that soon they worked like the cogs in a goblin-made machine (or better, considering the propensity of goblin-made machines to blow up). Soon, they started spending time outside missions together, too. That was when respect born from fighting together turned to friendship.

 

It was the first time for Thalyssra to have really befriended an Outsider; a non-Nightborne. After ten thousand years in isolation, knowing only her own kind and culture, it was like a breath of fresh air, yet also bewildering. Many awkward moments later, Thalyssra considered herself weaned of the notion that other peoples were just Nightborne with slightly different looks. She was also decidedly reluctant to approach matters of cultural differences head on.

 

Which was the reason she hesitated to ask when she noticed that Rokhan‘s lightning reflexes seemed to get slower. Or when he failed to hear an enemy approaching before she did. Or when, on getting up from a sitting position, his first few steps would seem stiff and painful. More and more, he would hang back in a fight and wield his magic where before he had always been right at the foe, slashing with his glaive and laughing in wild glee.

 

Thalyssra thought that he seemed tired, yet he would give himself no break. Ever the dutiful Shadow Hunter, defender of his tribe and the Horde. Maybe she really should go talk some sense into him, after all, even the most stalwart defender needed to rest every now and then...

 

_____________________________

 

„‘sup, fairy?“.

 

Thalyssra glared at the troll. Oh, this infuriating nickname… almost, she turned and walked right back out of the small room that Rokhan had comandeered as a sort of office. But she had been putting this off for so long, and lately, his behaviour had become erratic enough to seriously alarm her. No, she _was_ going to ask him today.

 

Just a moment ago, when she came in, he had been acting oddly, as he was wont to do these days, holding out a piece of parchment as far away from his eyes as he possibly could while complaining about the small writing, but as soon as he heard her enter, his attention focused on her and his lips split in a now-familiar, sharp-toothed grin. It reassured her, somewhat.

 

She decided to ignore the jab. By the Nightwell, if only she weren‘t so fond of this fool of a troll…

 

„I wanted to ask… well, actually...“. She found herself fumbling for words. And giving in to a momentary, cowardly impulse, she abruptly changed the topic. She would just come back to it later.

 

„What are you doing with that report? Is there a reason you must hold it so far away from your face you can‘t even read it?“. She half expected Rokhan to explain that it was written in a code that could only be deciphered from a distance, but he only grumbled, looking at the innocent parchment vengefully.

 

„Ya, well. Me eyes not be workin‘ as well as dey used ta.“, he finally admitted. „Close up, everythin‘ be gettin‘ blurry. Farther away an‘ I canna be readin‘ dis cursed tiny writin‘.“. He scoffed, a thought seeming to occur to him just a second later. „Say, could ya...“, he began while holding the report out to her, but Thalyssra was frowning now.

 

„If something‘s wrong with your eyes, shouldn‘t you be seeing a healer?“. That didn‘t sound too serious, if annoying, and it at least explained some of the… oddities… she had been noticing about Rokhan lately. Not all of them, though. What she couldn‘t fathom was why he didn‘t just get help. It must be his trollish pride. Due to their fast regeneration, disabilities were as good as unknown in trolls. Of course it would irk Rokhan that he should be one of those affected, and he wouldn‘t like to admit to a weakness like that. Thalyssra did understand that.

She still wanted to slap him.

 

„Nah, dey jus‘ gonna wanna force glasses on me, an I be no fuckin‘ gnome.“. Rokhan shook his head in mock-horror.

 

„Would that be so bad? If it would enable you to read without all that-“- and Thalyssra mimicked what she had seen him do earlier, pretending to squint at a parchment held out at arms‘ length. But the troll had his face set in a stubborn scowl that she knew there was no arguing with. „Never been a troll wearin‘ glasses, not gonna be da first one.“, he stated firmly while turning away and pretending to search for something among his stack of reports. That, Thalyssra knew, was meant to tell her to stop bugging him, because he knew she had it right but didn‘t want to admit it.

 

Sighing, she reached up with one hand to rub at the bridge of her nose. That really was going great so far. Now she had him on the defensive, and that was never a good place to start from to get him to see sense… or anyone, for that matter.

 

„Look, Rokhan… I‘m sorry, I didn‘t mean to pry, it‘s just… I‘m worried about you.“. There, she‘d said it. His eyes swiveled toward her once more, intrigued and slightly confused.

 

„What be dere ta worry `bout?“. He turned to face her, head tilted to one side quizzically. Now, how to phrase this….?

 

„You haven‘t been quite yourself lately and I thought, maybe you should allow yourself to take a break… let someone else take over for a while….“.

 

Even before she finished her sentence, Thalyssra knew she had said something to offend her friend. His brows knit together in a frown, and he stared at her as if he couldn‘t quite believe what he‘d heard. „Ya be tryin‘ ta tell me I bin‘ doin‘ a bad job?“.

 

Oh.

 

„No… no!“. Thalyssra held up her hands placatingly. By the Nightwell, she was making a mess of this.

 

„You‘ve been doing a splendid job, as always, it‘s just… aren‘t you working yourself a bit too hard? You never take a day off, you hardly ever just… rest… You‘ll be no good to the Horde if you just fall over one day.“, she tried to reason. This time she seemed to have hit on the right choice of words, or at least, a slightly better one, as Rokhan simply bit out a short laugh.

 

„Dat be Shadow Hunters for ya, fairy. No rest fo‘ de… well.“, he grinned, with a decidedly dirty undertone. But Thalyssra was not going to take that bait.

 

„Everyone needs to rest, even Shadow Hunters.“, she reminded him, trying to sound reasonable. „And you do seem tired. That archer on our last mission… she‘d never have gotten you if you had been at your best.“. That moment still replayed in her nightmares… the blood exploding from Rokhan‘s nose and mouth when the arrow hit him in the back, his eyes rolling back into his head as he toppled to the ground, her own scream ringing in her ears when she saw him fall, and the endless minutes of uncertainty until the tauren healer pronounced him to be out of danger. She‘d been a hair‘s breadth away from losing her friend, only because he‘d failed to pick out the archer circling around their small party to take a pot shot at the Shadow Hunter.

 

She didn‘t want to have to go through an experience like that again. Especially not because of his own damned stubbornness.

 

Rokhan was awkwardly scratching at his tusk now while giving her a somewhat sheepish look. „Ehhh, I know, not ma best moment. Guess dis ole mon jus‘ be gettin‘…. old.“.

 

„What do you mean?“. Thalyssra was lost. She was much, much older than him and still…

 

And then she remembered. How much shorter the lives of non-elves were. How fast they would wither toward the end of their lifespan. Now she knew what she had been witnessing for those past few months… it was nothing less than Rokhan‘s body starting to fail.

 

She was going to lose him. Not to violence, but simply to the passing of time.

 

A cold, hard hand clenched around her heart. Her breath failed for a moment, and when she succeeded in fighting it back under control, its return came with tears stinging her eyes.

 

„You‘re going to die….“, she breathed.

 

„Ya be makin‘ it sound like I jus‘ gonna keel over any moment.“, Rokhan replied laughingly, a laugh abruptly cut off when he saw the look on her face. Through a fog of tears, Thalyssra saw him come closer, then felt his hand grip her shoulder. His eyes, with the fresh wrinkles in the corners that she had noticed but never thought much about, scanned her visage, and then… he smiled.

 

„Well, I be flattered.“, he chuckled lightly, „Never knew ya liked me dis much. Yeah, it‘s true, I gonna die,“, he continued, a little more sober, his hand carding through her hair just behind the ear, like petting a favorite raptor. „We all do…. eventually. D‘ough I be guessin‘ I still got a few mo‘ years left-“ (and Thalyssra‘s heart clenched again, to her it was like he‘d said ‚a few more days‘)- „- and when I die, de Darkspear not gonna be mournin‘ mah deat‘, dey gonna be celebratin‘ mah life. Dat‘s why I wanna make it a life worth celebratin‘.“

 

Thalyssra had finally managed to blink back the moisture in her eyes so there was no danger of it spilling down her cheeks when she smiled back at her friend. „It already is.“. The quaver in her voice? There was no helping that. „Do you think…. are non-Darkspears allowed to join in such celebrations?“.

 

A startled blink. Then Rokhan pulled her closer, resting their foreheads together. „Friends always are.“.

 

„I‘ll bring some of your favorite rum, then.“.

 

He hummed appreciatively. „A good t‘ought. Ya DO know how trolls think.“.

 

„I know that one can never go wrong by giving… what do you call it, ‚booze‘?- to a troll.“.

 

A laugh rocked the Shadow Hunter backwards, a heartening sound to Thalyssra. „Yep, ya do know how trolls t‘ink.“.

 

„But…-“, she interjected, and Rokhan looked at her with raised brow-ridge, „That doesn‘t mean you should be in a hurry to go. You said you had a few more years, I‘m going to be holding you to that!“. She crossed her arms, trying to scowl at him. It couldn‘t have been very convincing, as she was sure her nose was still a telltale shade of purple.

 

„Dontcha be worryin‘, I be havin‘ far too much fun gettin‘ on ya nerves.“. A cheeky wink, followed by the appearence of a sheaf of parchments right under Thalyssra‘s nose. „Now do ya t‘ink ya could help me wit‘ dese?“.

 

She snatched at the report. „Give that here.“.

 

As she began to read aloud, Rokhan listening intently, Thalyssra thought that maybe she should just go and get him a pair of glasses regardless. Or….

 

… maybe…. she should not.

 

Because his needing her help with his reports meant more time spent with her friend, more hours in his company before their time together ran out.

 

Because, as she now knew, where life could be so short, that just made it all the more precious….


End file.
